


A Week in the Life

by ERD_Fiction



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, McHanzo Week, Most of the characters tagged are just mentioned, Not so much fluff after Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, WHAT I FINISHED IT TWO MONTHS LATE, Whoa, Whoa what am I working on this again, huh, maybe I'll pick it up again in the new year and finish it for good!, nothing but McHanzo, this is literally just what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ERD_Fiction/pseuds/ERD_Fiction
Summary: A series of shorts for Venti Chai Lattes.  Happy McHanzo week!





	1. At The Door

**Author's Note:**

> Well...it's here. Happy McHanzo week!
> 
> Initially I promised that all of them would be sweet, but, well, I lied. I also promised that they would be written in the perspective of Jesse McCree but I am known to be a dirty rotten liar.

Collar, check. Shirt tucked in, check. Belt--nice, leather, same old belt buckle. Check. Flowers in hand, check. Hair, after thirty minutes of failed styling...

His hat would have to do.

Checking himself out in the mirror one more time, Jesse sucks in his stomach, only to let it out. Nothing he can do about the bit of pudge around his middle now. It was about a few months and a couple dozen moon pies too late for that. Maybe if this "blind date" winds up working out, he'll have to take up jogging. Or sit-ups. Or something.

Blind date, he tries to call it. As if there was anything blind about it. To be fair, it was somewhat blind--half of the participants didn't know who was going to be showing up at their door tonight at 6:30 pm sharp. Jesse checks his watch. Whoops. 6:32. Already running late.

Flowers, check. Hair, under hat. Shoes, tied. Breathe in, Jesse, and breathe out. This ain't your first rodeo.

He lets out a sigh. Trust me, Genji had said. You'll do fine, he said. He's fond of you, he said. Not like he's gonna slam the door in your face or anything when you first get there, he said.

Jesse scoffed at him immediately, knowing that that's the exact kind of rejection he would get. But there was also a chance he might come along for the night. Go out for dinner, have a nice drink or two, maybe have a walk along the cliffside. That'd be mighty fine.

Point being, there's no way Jesse will ever know what he'll say until he goes up to the door, flowers in hands, and asks.

Walking down the hall, he tugs at his collar, wondering if the blue flannel was going to be nice enough for the place his potential date had picked out for them. He passes by a few other members along the way--Lena offers him a thumbs up for good luck, Lucio wrinkles his nose in confusion, Genji claps a hand on his shoulder. He grins, shakes his head, keeps walking, clutching the white roses just a little closer. He doesn't know much about flowers, but roses are pretty romantic, right?

He figures if he gets a second chance, he'll look more into it. If he gets a second chance.

It must take him five minutes to knock on the door. He knows he's late--it was 6:33 when he left, and it must be almost 6:40 now. He needs to knock on the door, explain his tardiness, apologize, thrust the roses forward and ask him to come along.

Nerves keeps his hand poised to knock on the door without touching it. This wasn't just some belle he met down the road for a fling. This was one of his coworkers. One of his friends. More than that--this was his partner. If things go south, this could ruin everything. If things go south, he might never get the chance to apologize. If things go south, he might drive him away.

He knocks on the door.

Elegance answers it, goatee neatly groomed, shirt buttoned and tie straight, hair tied up with a noble-looking blue satin scarf. Hanzo Shimada. The picture of pristine, the portrait of perfect. The essence of surprise.

"McCree?" he asks, looking up at him. Scarlet in the face, Jesse slowly holds the roses out, a nervous grin working away across his face that he's sure looks nothing short of embarrassing.

"Ready t'go, darlin'?" Jesse asks.

He watches Hanzo's face, watches his eyes sweep over his jeans and flannel and whiskers, face giving away nothing. That was one of the only things he didn't like about Hanzo--he could never tell what was going on in that gorgeous head of his. The silence stretches on so long, that Jesse's arm starts to drop, the flowers sinking from his grip.

He's about to call the whole thing off and plead for forgiveness, the archer reaches out, takes the roses, and gives them a scrutinizing sniff.

When he smiles, Jesse's heart all but drops down into his boots.

"Lead the way."

With a beam, Jesse dares to offer his arm, and almost puts a skip in his step when Hanzo takes it. "Y'know," he says, as he guides him down the halls, "wasn't sure what you'd think 'bout this."

"Actually," Hanzo admits, glancing up at him with a slight pink in his cheeks. "I was hoping it would be you."


	2. At The Operating Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to the prompt "First Time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I forgot that McHanzo week starts today, not yesterday, so have eight chapters I guess. Good writing exercise.
> 
> For the record, Venti Chai Lattes are just okay.
> 
> Happy McHanzo week!

Lights flickering.

Shapes and colors.

Darkness, followed by more lights.

Something calls out to him. Someone. It feels like he's underwater, trapped under ice. Muffled, frantic voices shouting just out of hearing.

It doesn't clear up until the shapes start to focus, until the colors stop blending together and start molding into the shapes. A ceiling light, a white ceiling. Some sort of pale green fluid in an IV bag. To his right, an angel, gripping his hand tightly, calling out to his cotton-covered ears and looking stunning and elegant as ever. It takes his own breath away.

To his left, fixing the IV bag, is Dr. Zieglar. The first person he's able to recognize in full as his vision clears.

"Ah, Jesse," she comments as they make eye contact, her voice tinged with cheer and lined with concern. "It is good to see you awake."

Letting out a groan, Jesse tries to sit up, but feels a firm hand press down onto his sternum. He glances to his right, to where the dragon sits, agitated, annoyed, ailed...

The lights must be playing tricks on him. Were those tear tracks crossing his angry sneer?

Grinning sheepishly, Jesse nods to him. "Howdy, darlin'."

"Where does it hurt?" the good doctor asks. It takes him longer than he'd like to admit to tear his eyes off of the handsome archer who has yet to remove his hand from his chest, but he looks back at Angela.

"Shit, doc, I just woke up and y'already gotta quiz me bout that?" he mutters, rolling his shoulders, wincing as the muscles roll over battered bones. "Lemme get my bearings first..."

"My apologies, Jesse. Take your time." By the tone of her voice, she implies that she wishes he wouldn't take his time, that he would talk to her and tell her where she can fix him. He grins up at her.

"Honey, don't go frettin' 'bout me jus' yet," he reassures her. "Made it through worse, still kicking now, ain't I?"

"You nearly got your other arm blown off, McCree." He wouldn't need to see the fury on Hanzo's face to recognize it. The tone of his voice shot straight through his ribcage and to his spine, making him wince. He might not have been expecting the tears, but he certainly expected the anger to cut him through like the tip of an arrow.

"Mr. Shimada, please," Angela urges him, trying to stay in good humor. "There will be time to criticize my patient when he has been debriefed."

The dragon snorts. Finally removing his hand, he pulls away and crosses his arms.

It dawns on Jesse that the voice calling to him while he was half asleep must have been Hanzo.

"Do you need some more time, Jesse?" she asks, looking back down at him.

"Jus' a moment," Jesse admits. With a groan, he sits himself up to inspect the damage. Not his most graceful fall from a three-story building, but certainly not his worst. A cast covers one of his legs--could've been both--and his right arm was wrapped up like a present on Christmas morning--least the other one ain't broken. He feels the pad of the bandages around his torso before he sees them--a few broken ribs never hurt anybody--and as he rolls his shoulders, he winces, feeling his right one jar out of place--aw, that'll just pop right back in.

"Gotta admit, doc, ain't feelin' fresh as no daisy," he claims, "but ain't nothin's hurtin' where it ain't supposed to."

"That is a relief," Angela admits, her shoulders finally relaxing, satisfied with the answer.

"Don't remember much of the mission, though. How'd it go down in Ilios?"

"After your 'incident,' we were able to take matters into our own hands." The bite of Hanzo's tone snaps through him so quick, he almost jumps. "We were able to extract the information needed, disable the weapons, and clear out before any other incidents occurred." Jesse dares to take a glance over at him, and is met with narrow eyes and a wrinkled nose. "It appears your foolish miscalculation was all for naught."

His words would hurt more if he had bothered to wipe the snot out of his nose.

"Mr. Shimada, it would be a good idea for you to step out for a moment," Angela remarks, an edge to her voice. "Jesse needs his shoulder set back into place, and I would like to perform the procedure without additional agitation ailing my patient."

If the mood was any lighter, Jesse would've let out a whistle. Damn if Angela didn't have a way of making people feel small.

For a moment, Hanzo looks as though he might protest. Before Jesse can get a word in edge-wise, he stands up and sulks out of the room.

"Sheesh," Jesse mutters, reaching up with his mechanical hand to tip his hat back. When he finds it isn't there, he reaches down to scratch his beard. "Someone ain't a happy camper."

"I am sure he means well," Angela says, reaching down and placing her hands on Jesse's torso to help him up. "Now sit yourself up."

"Got it, doc," Jesse grumbles, wincing as he pushes himself up. "Let's get this over with." He manages to lift his legs over the side of the bed, though he needs some help from the good doctor to swing the cast over the bed.

Angela tells him in depth more about the details of the mission. The original plan was to sneak through a warehouse entrance for an alleged Talon base of operation, and do some simple recon. Someone apparently had tipped the enemy off to the mission's plans--when they arrived, it took Agent McCree all of two minutes to realize that the place was rigged to explode. It was his quick thinking to cause a ruckus outside with some Talon agents that got everyone out of the building before it blew sky high--though it led to his fall from a three-story building.

Agent Tracer managed to find another way into the facility, and, as agent Shimada reported, they were able to hack into their devices, stall their activity, and gather vital information for future missions. Despite the few speed bumps, the mission was a success.

"Agent Hanzo has been here all afternoon," Angela continues, as she unwraps the bandages covering his shoulder. "I was not able to sit down for more than ten minutes before he was asking to check your vitals again."

Jesse lets out a laugh, does his best to move his shoulder around, wincing and grunting at the pain. "Sounds like he's been nothin' but a pain in the rear. Ain't he ever seen a comrade knock out before?"

"I was not able to ask," Angela says, looking Jesse in the eyes. Her face looks soft, her eyes concerned. "He was worried, is what I mean to say. Perhaps even more than I was."

"Aww, darlin'," Jesse croons, tilting his head. "Ain't nothin' I can't bounce back from."

"I am not the one you must reassure," she chides, a small smile gracing her face. "On my count."

"Always is."

With a count to three, a snap, and a shout, it's back in place. Jesse hunches over, tremors running up and down his spine for a few moments. Relocating shoulders was getting harder and harder as the years went by. He wonders absently if he's still able to do it to himself these days. He's starting to doubt it.

"Did ya set my shoulder, or get a rattler to bite me?" he jokes, rubbing his shoulder tenderly.

"It is set," Angela reassures him, a shine in her eyes. "And now, it is time for you to lie back down and rest." She taps the IV bag absently. "I will be back in an hour to check your vitals again."

"I hear ya, doc."

"Should I allow Agent Shimada back into the room?"

"I figure I owe it t'him t'let him know I'm still alive. Let him know the good Doctor Angela ain't donatin' my body to science," he adds in a teasing tone. Not even the doctor can hide the good-natured smirk on his face. She leans down and lets her hand brush his forehead.

"He was very anxious about your recovery," she murmurs.

"I'll give him some peace of mind."

With that, Angela steps away from the bed and walks out into the hallway. Lowering himself back onto the bed, letting his head sink into the pillow, he closes his eyes, enjoying the quiet for the moment. He was ready for the roar of the dragon to shatter the peace, break down the walls, tear him from his bed and thrust him against the walls.

"McCree."

His approach was so silent that this time, Jesse does jump, yelping, his eyes flying open as his head darts around, finding Hanzo's face. The archer sits in the seat beside him, scrutinizing his appearance with a sneer. His nose, Jesse could see, but the small tracks of tears were still lining his face.

"Darlin'," the cowboy croons, looking up at him.

"Do not 'darling' me," the archer hisses. "Do not think I will be there when you next decide to throw yourself off of a building."

"It was only three stories, honey," Jesse jokes. "Ain't nothin' I haven't fallen off before."

"Do not mock me by making light of your situation!" Hanzo snaps, gesturing down at Jesse's body. "Look at you! You could have avoided this!"

"I was backed into a corner," Jesse mutters. "Y'saw all those guys on my tail, what else was I supposed to do?"

"Request assistance," Hanzo counters. "Call for someone. Call for me."

"And what, let 'em fill me with holes while I wait for y'all t'come bumblin' over to my rescue?" Jesse grumbles, voice bordering on a growl. "I get it, I hear ya, looked like a greenhorn steppin' out into the open like that--"

"You were not following orders."

"If we followed orders, we would've been cooked up like chicken 'n dumplin's on a Thursday night!"

"McCree--"

"Wasn't no time t'tell y'all that the buildin' was gonna blow, had t'get y'all's attention somehow--"

"Jesse!"

"What?" This time, Jesse does growl. "Y'gonna beat me down and berate me like I'm some rookie who don't think things through? Y'think I just went off and got myself caught in the snare for fun? Fuck, Hanzo, I ain't just some bare-ass moron bumblin' 'round without a god damn clue what I--"

"I almost lost you."

The silence that follows is uncomfortable. Jesse almost hadn't heard the archer's words--they had come out so quietly he nearly missed them. Even when he had heard them, he almost didn't recognize them--they sounded too defeated, too frightened. Nothing like the fierce and formidable bark of the archer's normal voice.

Jesse looks up at Hanzo again, watches him reach up and wipe furiously at his eye, gritting his teeth as the tear squeezes its way out of his eye. "Hanzo--"

"You cannot risk your life like that," the dragon growls. "It is no longer just yours to bargain."

"Honey," Jesse murmurs, slowly reaching out with his right hand and placing it over Hanzo's. When the archer doesn't move it, he lets his thumb circle across the skin on the back of his hand. "I'm okay, y'hear? All part of the job, part of the routine. Ain't nothin' new."

"It is new to me."

When Jesse finds himself unsure of how to respond, Hanzo continues, tearing his eyes away from Jesse's whiskey-colored gaze. "It has been a very long time since I have been...attached to someone as I am to you. The thought of losing you is one I am not very well acquainted with." Despite his steady voice, his hand shivers under Jesse's, shivering under his gentle thumb strokes, and a few more tears squeeze out of his eyes. If it weren't for the groan of his muscles, Jesse would be reaching up and pulling Hanzo down onto him.

"Darlin', I'm sorry," he murmurs, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, biting back the a wince at the pain in his arm. "It comes with the job. Ain't easy, but y'get used to it."

"Jesse," Hanzo sighs, leaning down slowly, until his forehead is pressed against the sharpshooter's.

"I'll be more careful next time, awright, darlin'? I swear," Jesse murmurs gently, watching Hanzo's eyes close, admiring the way he can trace every single eyelash when they are this close.

"An empty promise," Hanzo chides, though there is no bite to his tone. He brings a hand over and brushes his fingers across Jesse's cheek.

"But it's still a promise, angel."

"I will hold you to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been seeing a lot of unique "first time" ideas, and figured I'd try one of my own. Hope you enjoyed it! Coming out with six more after this!
> 
> Wow this was a lot longer than they thought it would be. Uh. Enjoy?
> 
> \--Edym


	3. At The Kitchen Counter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's used to cooking over a camp fire. So when things start to burn, he's not the first to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God damn, I love me some good ol' domestic couples. Warning: old gay men being stupidly sweet with each other, fight over nothing.

If he had been downstairs in the kitchen, where he was supposed to be, he would've smelled the smoke before he heard the alarm go off.

As it was, Jesse McCree was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, doing his best to spruce up his beard and whiskers just a tad more, and was just about to add the final touch when the alarm goes off.

Scratch that. The alarm doesn't go off first. A voice hollers at him from down the hallway.

"Jesse, whatever you have on the oven, it is at risk of catching on fire!"

The burly man jumps, nicking his skin just as the razor scratches across his cheekbone. Cursing, he brings a tissue up to it, watching the blood soak through the thin paper. With a shake of his head, he grits his teeth and does his best to patch it up. Now, the right side of his face is covered in a very obvious bandage.

So much for looking nice.

Bolting down the stairs, he swings into the kitchen right as the alarm goes off. He watches as a thin trail of smoke rises from inside the oven.

"Mother fuck--"

" _Jesse James McCree!_ "

"I'm on it, I'm on it!" Moving fast, he bolts to the stove and throws open the oven, snatching up the mitts and pulling out the casserole Hanzo helped him make earlier that day. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be too badly burnt--just a pinch too dark around the edges. Probably perfect in the middle, he reassures himself.

Didn't explain where all the smoke was coming from.

A voice hollers from upstairs. "If you do not turn that smoke alarm off right this instant--"

"Well, if yer so keen on shuttin' the damn thing up, do it yerself!" Jesse snaps right back, dropping the casserole on top of the oven before turning it off and racing over to the little screaming machine. For some reason, the archer got it into his head that he had to shove that stick up his rear a little further than usual today. Jesse has been darting around like a chicken with its head cleaved off darting across hot coals, running to the supermarket, turning the house upside-down with a vacuum and a dust rag, washing each and every dish in the kitchen, and cooking a four-course meal big enough to feed half an army.

He understands the importance of trying to prepare for company coming over, but this was overkill.

"Get that fucking alarm--"

"I'm _working_ on it, Hanners!" Jesse snaps back up, fumbling in frustration with the little device as he tries to figure out how to get it to stop beeping in his face. "Stop shootin' me in the foot before y'can even see where yer aimin'!"

He doesn't need to hear Hanzo's dismissive snort to know that was his response. With a grunt, he finally pries out the batteries and bolts back to the kitchen. He runs back to the stove, opening the window next to it to let some of the smoke billowing out of it, coughing as he goes back to find the source. Somehow, some parchment paper from one of the cookie sheets had fallen into the oven and caught fire. With a sigh, Jesse does his best to put it out, and opens the kitchen door. Nothing to do but to air the place out.

"Fire's out!" he calls back up.

"What do you mean, the fire is out?!" Poor choice of words.

"I mean--"

"Are you determined to ruin the kitchen?!"

"Hanners, cut me some slack!" Jesse calls out, jogging out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Nothin's ruined, jus' a little mishap!"

Just as he's reaching the top step, he sees his partner poke his head out of the bathroom, hair tied back with one of his old blue bandanas, rubber gloves on hands. For a brief, amusing moment, he considers how Hanzo looks like the perfect picture of a housewife. Same gorgeous face, same attire, same narrow, very furious eyes. Sniffing the air, his eyes bulge.

"Please tell me that is not smoke."

"Maybe jus' a little."

"What did you burn?"

"I didn't burn nothing!" Jesse growls, storming up to the shorter man, matching his narrow gaze. "Piece of paper from the cookies fell off and caught fire in the oven, that's all!"

There it is. That ever-dismissive snort. "How careless of you."

"Oh, don't try to pin this one on me, you were on dessert duty!" Jesse snaps back. "And yer the one who's been flippin' out since you got up this mornin'! Skittish as a--"

"As a newborn calf without its mother," Hanzo mutters. "You have mentioned that three times already."

"Cuz it's true, darlin'!" Jesse exclaims, exasperated. "Y'all've been actin' like we're havin' some sort of world-class party in here!"

"We may as well be."

"Hanzo," Jesse sighs, walking up to him and putting his hands on the other man's shoulders, meeting his dark-eyed gaze. "It's jus' my mother."

Hanzo shrugs off his hands, watching them fall back to Jesse's side. "Your mother deserves our respect."

"Aww, y'know my maw, she's proud if I put clean underwear on in th'morning."

"Jesse." Alright, joking's not gonna get him anywhere.

"Honey, what's got y'all jumpin' around givin' us a hundred things t'do? Y've met her before, y've met her a dozen times. She loves you."

"I must maintain my reputation." The archer starts to turn back into the bathroom, stopped when Jesse grabs his shoulder. This time, he does not pull away.

"C'mon, Hanzo," Jesse tries. "Stop bein' so antsy, awright? Everythin's fine. She loves the house, can't stop askin' for pictures of it. She loves the house, an' me, and you, and what we got here."

He doesn't think Hanzo will respond at first, and opens his mouth to continue when the shorter man finally does, shoulders slacking. "I apologize..." He doesn't look back at Jesse just yet as he continues. "I suppose I have been...a bit too nervous."

"That's an understatement, darlin,'" Jesse teases. "C'mere, you." As he pulls Hanzo into a hug, he does not protest. Rather, he wraps his arms around the cowboy's waist, hugging to the little bit of pudge that he can't seem to work off. "You mean the world to me, darlin', and maw knows it, too. It's why you mean the world to her, too."

"...Thank you."

Jesse presses a kiss to his temple before peering back into the bathroom. He lets out a whistle. "Shit, Hanners, y'outdone yerself. Bathroom looks like it's brand new. Not even a trace of spit shine."

"It is not quite finished," Hanzo admits, pulling away and turning back. "The bathtub--"

"Maw ain't gonna be takin' no showers here, Hanzo," Jesse laughs, tugging him close, chuckling at the startled grunt of the archer. "C'mon down, honey, tell me how I screwed up yer casserole or somethin'. Bleach is gonna get to yer head."

Hanzo looks as though he might protest, but after a few moments, he sighs. He turns back to the cowboy and meets him halfway for a kiss. "You look as though you finally trimmed your beard," he comments, reaching up to tap the bandage. "Though it appears you still have a lot to learn about shaving."

"Can't y'at least kiss it t'make it better before insultin' me?" Jesse croons, leaning down his cheek into Hanzo's face. Hanzo snorts again--though this time, he sounds more amused than annoyed, and presses his lips into it.

"Insufferable fool."

"Takes one to know one."

Standing on his toes, Hanzo brings his mouth up to his ears. "Love you, too."

Trying not to go dizzy with giddiness--he still hasn't gotten used to Hanzo saying that to him--he follows Hanzo downstairs.

\---------------------------------------------

"Evening went by fast," Jesse comments, watching and waving as his mother steps back into the taxi to head back to her hotel room. Hanzo stands beside him, arms tucked in the sleeves of his overcoat, eyes trained on the car as it pulls away.

"So it would seem."

"She jus' couldn't shut up 'bout the casserole," the cowboy mutterrs, scratching his beard. "I don't get it. She couldn't get enough of it, but she kept sassin' me 'bout the edges."

"I told you the oven was too hot."

"It came out fine!"

Hanzo lets out a little laugh, looking up at Jesse. Warmth lit up his eyes, and something else. Something that seemed equal parts frightened and excited.

"What was all that 'bout you needin' to take a stroll with my mother, by the by?" Jesse asked as they turn back into the house. "She wouldn't tell me nothin' when she got back."

"I ah...needed to ask permission for something." Hanzo ducks his head, digging his arms deeper into his sleeves as he looks away from Jesse. The pink tips of his ears betray him as Jesse observes him quizzically.

"Is that why you were so anal about havin' everythin' be spotless today?"

"I wouldn't use that word but--"

"Well, I am. You were downright anal, darlin'."

"Hush." After a moment, he adds, "I suppose I was...particular about having everything being in its place today."

"Well, what kinda somethin' did'ya ask her?" Jesse asks slowly.

As the door shuts behind him, Hanzo takes a deep breath, and turns back to him. Face tinged rose, arms pulling out of his sleeve to reveal a tiny velvet box.

"I requested permission." the archer murmurs tenderly as he watches Jesse's eyes go wide. "Permission to ask you a question."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in--local author can't stop writing proposals and wedding sequences.
> 
> Thanks for reading it! This one is my best so far!
> 
> \--Edym


	4. At The Edge of the Ranch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of an RP that me and my Hanzo planned together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling a little lazy tonight, so I'm not sure if I'll write much.

Dragonairs and Gogoats. Who would've thought?

As Jesse watches the lithe, blue dragons wriggle around the little goats, observing them butting heads and braying at one another, he wonders how else things were supposed to be. Tipping his hat, he turns back to the berry tree he's been watering, and moves on to the next one.

It's almost been a year since Huckleberry Hills set itself up, and customers seem to keep pouring in. Everyone seems to want to get their hands on a newly-hatched Dratini, but Jesse's blown away at how awed everyone is by his own crew. He thinks it's the Rockruffs and the Mudsdales, to be honest--plain Pokemon once you've been around them long enough, but very new to the area.

Either way, business is booming, the flowers are blooming, and for the first time in his entire life, there's nothing more than Jesse could ask for,

That is, until he feels a pair of arms wrap around his own.

"Hey, now, sweetheart," Jesse laughs, pulling up the watering can. "Lemme finish up here so I can pay proper attention to you."

"I do not know if I can wait for you to finish chores." The shorter, elegant man buries his face in the back of his flannel shirt. "You take so long to water those plants."

"Berries don't grow by themselves, Han," Jesse murmurs, turning around to face his lover proper. "Sides, we got a lot to do in the next few weeks."

"I suppose you have a point," Hanzo smirks, looking up at him with dark eyes that leave Jesse swooning.

They have a lot to get ready for. If they were going to provide the catering for their own engagement party, by lord, they were going to do it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one isn't so great and is also super short. I'm in the midst of finals week, and I just kind of had to shove this one out.
> 
> So yeah, Jesse and Hanzo as Pokemon breeders I guess. Their wedding is scheduled sometime in early spring, and it's going to be romantic as HECK.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3
> 
> \--Edym


	5. At The Corner of the Shooting Range

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to: Day 4 – Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy it's so super late, but I had to get something done today, so I figured this could be it.

The sound of a gunshot rings out for miles. A firework going off without the echo.

The sound of an arrow is all but silent. A soft twang, a swift breeze. A deadly breathe to fall on any who face the tip.

The sounds of gunshots go off in the range, as Hanzo fires bullet after bullet, right between the eyes every time. His stance, easy. His eyes, focused.

Leaning against the wall was Jesse, a stern look on his face, tipping the cowboy hat back and brushing some dirt off of the collar of his dress shirt. He looked stiff, kept shifting his gaze from one place to the other.

In the middle of reloading, he shuffles off the wall, slinging the arrow sling back around his shoulder. "Reckon you could catch a rat between the eyes with that thing."

With a gentle smile, Hanzo turns around, looking back at him. "I took some pointers from the best."

"Aw, shucks. Ain't nothin' I taught you that you didn't have in you before," the archer grumbles, tipping his hat over his face in an attempt to hide how red it was becoming.

"Do not be so quick to brush aside your own abilities," Hanzo pushes, slipping the gun back into the holster and walking over to the taller man. "You, too, could shoot vermin between their eyes. I would go so far to say that you could do it blindfolded."

Dark eye brows shoot up and disappear into the well-groomed locks of his chocolate brown hair, as he regards the man with the loose ponytail and the sweet grin. "Reckon I could?"

"Absolutely. Trust me. In fact," he says with a coy grin, "I would go so far as to put a wager on it."

Silence settles between them, as a twinkle fills Jesse's eyes. With a snort, the tan-skinned archer unslings the bow from around his arm. "Awright, I'll bite. I take you up on this bet, shoot with my eyes closed. What's in it fer me?"

"Whatever you would like," Hanzo offers.

"Awright. Then y'all owe me a bottle of the finest bourbon they got on this side of the Atlantic," Jesse says, sticking out his hand. "Shoot the smallest target here, dead-center, no lookin'. That's my end of the bargain."

"Deal." Hanzo shakes his hand, a smirk growing on his face. Rolling his shoulders and sliding off his overcoat to lay on a nearby chair, the bronze archer pulls out his bow, as the shorter gunslinger watches him spot his target, roll the stiffness out of his shoulder.

"So, uh, what's yer side of the bargain?" Jesse asks, notching the arrow and closing his eyes, trying to visualize the target.

A soft chuckle slips out of the archer's mouth. Jesse tenses as he feels the gunslinger behind him, sliding his rough but lithe hands up his neck, and over his eyes, blocking his vision. A voice, sweet as the angel's song yet sinful as the devil's cry, purrs into his ear.

"A bronco in my bed tonight."

The arrow misses by a large margin. Before Hanzo could even accuse him of missing on purpose, their lips were crashing into each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully will get the urge to finish all of these up within the next few days. Knock one more thing off my list of things to do!
> 
> I tried to make it kind of like a role-reversal with a personality swap? I dunno. Just had to write something today.
> 
> \--Edym


	6. At The Base of the Sakura Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHOA IT'S LATE FOR MCHANZO WEEK BUT IT'S ON TIME FOR VASELINE DAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually ended up being a lot cuter than I thought huh.

Stolen moments could only satiate the man for so long. Each kiss, each second, felt like a drop of rain in the middle of the desert--a blessing for a mere moment, then agony after. These short moments could only serve to quench his thirst for so long.

He invited him out, the afternoon before. Meet me by the Rover, he promised, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as they scrambled to find purchase for their lust. The bathroom wasn't the most forgiving place for love-making, but it was all either of them could afford.

Plus, the soap the Shimada Clan had stowed in there was more expensive than his plane ticket to Hanamura.

In a frenzy of kisses and groans, the archer had promised to meet him, promised that he would find a way to slip out and spend the afternoon with him. Americans, he grumbled as they parted, with several more stolen kisses and bruises. A Valentine's Day in February? How strange.

He pulled up the Rover to their usual meeting spot. He was running a little late, and expected the heir to the Shimada Clan to look just as frustrated as he expected. After looking over both shoulders, he hopped right into the car, slamming the door behind him as their lips crashed together, desperate for contact when separation was only a few weeks away.

"You are late," he chided the second their lips parted. The longing in his gaze and the blush on his cheeks did not match his irritated tone. The cowboy could only grin.

"Sorry, darlin'," he apologizes, as he starts the car. "Had to make sure everything was perfect."

"If you were so adamant about making everything perfect," the archer grumbled, leaning back into his seat and closing his eyes, "you would have been on time, cowman."

"Oh, sweet pea, why you gotta be so mean to me?" the cowboy crooned, reaching a hand over to brush underneath the archer's chin. His hand is batted playfully away, a smile splitting across the archer's face.

"You know me well enough, Jesse McCree. I cannot allow myself to be nice all the time."

"Yeah, otherwise, I'd get used to it. Start expecting it outta ya."

"Precisely."

"Well, Hanzo, ain't you a piece of work?" Jesse grumbles. "Got a bite meaner than an adder."

The archer chuckles, looking at him fondly. Jesse grins in return, feeling the heat come to his face.

"So," Hanzo murmurs, leaning across the seat divider. "Tell me."

"Tell ya what?"

"Where you are taking me, obviously," the archer grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"Honey, I spent the whole afternoon settin' up this surprise, and y'wanna go ahead and ruin it?"

Hanzo trails his fingers up Jesse's biceps, smirking at the shiver that runs down the gunslinger's spine. "I must admit, my curiosity is getting the better of me."

"Ain't you ever learn that patience is a virtue?"

"I must have skipped that lesson."

Jesse lets out a whistle. "Lookit here. Eldest Shimada brother, skippin' class to wrangle up an American outlaw."

He can't hold back the grin when Hanzo laughs, throwing his head back for a moment before shaking it off, eyes lined with mirth. "What on earth would my father think?"

"Uh, I'd like to think he'd say I was a bona-fide catch for ya."

"Your big head is going to get you in trouble someday."

"Yup," Jesse agrees, as he puts the car into park. "But today ain't that day."

Hanzo blinks, looking outside. "Here already?"

"Never said we were goin' far."

"You never said anything about where we're going."

"That's the thing about surprises," Jesse chuckles, jumping out of his car and dashing to Hanzo's side to get the door. "Ya ain't supposed t'know about 'em."

Hanzo steps out, accepting the cowboy's hand as he guides him onto the pebbled path. "I never said I liked surprises."

"Never said ya didn't like 'em, either."

With a slight pout, the elder Shimada takes the gunslinger's arm. They begin to walk down the pebbled path, through the frozen garden, dusted with snow and preparing for another brilliant bloom for the spring.

"How did you convince Gabriel to give you the whole afternoon off?"

"Told him I had t'observe the holiday."

A skeptical look. "Really."

"Well, I tried that. And when that didn't work--"

"As predicted." Jesse swats him playfully for that, drawing out another laugh.

"Yeah, yeah. Anywho, when that didn't work, I told him I was sick to my stomach. Ate some bad sushi last night. Needed the afternoon t'recover."

"And he believed you?"

"No, but he knew I wouldn't stop peckin' at him until he gave me what I wanted."

With a sigh, Hanzo draws himself closer to him. "At this rate, it's a wonder he still has no clue."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that. Gabe's got a way of knowin' 'bout everythin'. But," he adds when Hanzo's head jolts up, "he know how to keep his mouth shut. If he ain't wranglin' me about it, we ain't in hot water yet."

"...Good."

Jesse kisses the archer's forehead as they round the corner, inhaling the scent of sage and lavender. New soap, he observes. "Ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout, sweetheart. I promise."

"I will attempt to believe y--Jesse!"

Just around the bend, underneath the frostbitten sakura tree where he had first kissed the archer, was a lovely quilt, laid out with care. In the center of it, a small basket, with a bottle of plum wine and a box of chocolates poking out of it. Settled against the tree was Jesse's trusty guitar, and beside that, a small wrapped gift, tied together with a bow.

"Y'think fer a second I wouldn't go all out fo--hmph!"

As the archer tackles him to the ground, the wind is knocked out from him, and all semblance of thought evaporated from his mind as his lips were met with fire, fueled by kiss after kiss. He must've looked dizzy as he sat up, as Hanzo just laughed and cupped his face in his hands.

"You," Hanzo moans as he kisses him. "Are." A second kiss. "The." A third. "Worst." This last one was punctured with a kiss so deep and so sweet that it left Jesse gazing into the cosmos. Swaying a little as he pulls away, he reaches up to make sure his hat's still on his head.

It isn't.

"Only the best for you," he manages, wrapping his arms tight around the archer. Forget his hat. He can have that any other day.

"Thank you, my love," the archer murmurs. "This...was certainly a good surprise."

Jesse grins, standing himself up and offering Hanzo a hand. "Glad t'hear it. Now, c'mon. These chocolates ain't gonna eat themselves, and I'll be damned if I don't try summa that plum wine y'keep goin' on about."

With a smirk, the shorter man pulls himself up, face softening as he presses into the gunslinger's chest. Despite his claim that they should start eating the chocolates, Jesse seems content to stand with him all day, swaying side to side, wrapped in each other's embrace.

"We should...get started." Hanzo eventually pulls away from the embrace, looking up at Jesse with half-lidded eyes. "I wasn't able to convince my father to give me the whole day."

"Right, right," Jesse murmurs, coughing a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, then maybe y'should start, with the present."

With a blink of confusion, Hanzo wanders over to the blanket, lifting up the small box. It felt surprisingly light--as though nothing was in it.

"Why is that?" he asks, as he carefully undoes the ribbon.

"Y'know, I-I just...I ain't always the best with these things. I didn't know what t'get ya, and, well, I figure--either this is gonna be a good idea, or yer gonna take the chocolates and leave."

Snorting, Hanzo pulls off the wrapping paper, to reveal a plain brown package. Opening that up, he finds...an envelope.

"What on earth did you get me?" Hanzo asks, slowly unsealing the letter.

With a gulp, Jesse turns away. "Th-The one thin' I thought no one else could get ya."

The archer pauses, narrowing his eyes at the cowboy, curious. He focuses his attention on the envelope in his hands, pulling out the letter. He takes a moment to mull over the words, reciting them out loud.

"If you're reading this, look up...Jesse, I'm not sure--"

As he looks up, he's interrupted by the strum of a guitar. Red in the face, hands plucking away at the notes, Jesse grins sheepishly at him, and after a few failed and nervous attempts to open his mouth, he manages to sing.

"Heart beats fast, Colors and promises, How to be brave, How can I love...~" he starts, voice quivering and breaking a bit as he sings, but slowly gaining confidence as he goes

"When I'm afraid to fall, But watching you stand alone...~" His baritone voice rings out steadily, gazing down at the quilted blanket, missing the mesmerized look on the archer's face, missing the way his mouth opens in awe, too nervous to focus on anything but getting this right.

"All of my doubt, Suddenly goes away somehow...~" he murmurs, finally looking Hanzo in the eye, finding the sun and the moon in both.

"One step closer...~" If he looks close enough, he swears he can see the mist welling up in Hanzo's eyes.

"I have died everyday, waiting for you, Darlin', don't be afraid, I have loved you, For a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more...~" He relishes the way the smile slowly spreads across the archer's face, almost breaks as the archer lets out a laugh that sounds halfway to a sob, adores the way he curls in on himself.

"And all along I believed, I would find you~" Jesse continues, letting his hands fall off the guitar to bring up to Hanzo's face. Hanzo barely manages to raise his gaze, blinking rapidly and sliding his own hand up to grip Jesse's tightly.

"Time as brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years~" Jesse sings, setting the guitar aside and bringing himself closer to Hanzo, brushing his cheek with his thumb.

"I'll love you for a thousand more...~"

He can't even ask if the archer liked the song, or if he hated it, or if he thought it was too sappy, because he's on the ground again, the archer's face buried into his neck as he clings to him. As he wraps his arms around him, he hears it, muffled by his chest, so quiet and quick that he almost misses it. His heart races.

"What was that?" he breathes.

Pulling his head up, allowing the gunslinger to gaze up at the slim teardrops that glide down his face, Hanzo cups his hands around Jesse's face, his smile bright and his eyes shining.

"I love you too, you stupid cowman."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like tree sap. Happy Kwanzaa!
> 
> \--Edym


	7. At The Gates of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'know how McHanzo Day 6 was supposed to be Ultimate Swap? And everyone had them like switching Dead Eye for dragons? Yeah. Not here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to feel sad today so you get to feel a little sad too.

"You do realize the gravity of what you're asking."

Jesse clutches the lifeless body of his former lover to his chest, unable to bear looking back up into the light, into the holier-than-thou being that was insisting he let go.

"You bet all the stars in the sky I do," is all he manages to choke out.

"Jesse McCree. Your time is nowhere near today. It would be in your best interest--and his own--that you remain where you belong."

"Who gives a fuck about my best interest?!" He finally manages to bring up his head to glare, glare at the being of light, glaring up at its face, where the eyes should be, as he feels the blood stains his clothes. "This ain't about me! An' who the fuck are you t'decide what's best?!"

"Your grief is strong," the angel coaxes. "Imagine his grief, should he find you have departed."

"You listen here," Jesse growls, pointing a trembling finger up at him. "And you listen damn well. I ain't got no one left--nobody back on that god-forsaken planet left to give half a rat's ass about. Hanzo...he jus--"

He breaks off with a sob, burying his face in the archer's hair again, clutching him even tighter. "His brother--he just started talkin' t'him again...y'can't take that away from him, y'just can't...!"

Silence.

"You no naught of what you speak of. History repeats itself--they are destined to quarrel again. There are no way to predict that their bond will last--"

"And there ain't no way of knowin' if it won't!" Though his tears, through his anguish and rage, he snaps back. "I ain't askin' fer any sass from the peanut gallery, I ain't lookin' for a second opinion! You asked what I'd like t'do, and I said do it!"

"I am only being thoroug--"

"I ain't gotta think twice about it." Quiet now, voice hoarse, he buries his face in Hanzo's neck, shuddering to find his skin growing cold. "Y'said y'd do it. So git it done."

Silence.

The archer remains still in his arms.

"Jesse James McCree. You wish to take the place of Hanzo Shimada. You will sign away your own soul, sacrifice the remainder of his life, to buy him a few more years."

Laying a kiss on his forehead, ignoring the blood that dots his skin, Jesse whispers, "Every time."

\----------------

Sounds come first. Then, blurred images. The glow of the light, the steady and constant blips of nearby machinery. With a moan, he closes his eyes, squinting them shut as he adjusts.

"Welcome back, brother."

With a jolt, his eyes fly open, and his head snaps to the right, looking towards the cyborg next to him. "Genji," Hanzo manages hoarsely.

"I am...so happy you are alive." A hesitant and gentle hand comes up, clasps Hanzo's shoulder, grips it as tight as he dares.

Silence.

"I...could not abandon you again," Hanzo whispers. "Not now."

Silence.

"Jes--...McCree. Where is he?"

The cyborg doesn't answer for a very long time. His head hangs, his grip slackens. He looks to a nearby table--a black back, zipped up tight, lies on top of it. There is no mistaking the tremble in his synthetic voice when he finally responds.

"Jesse...was not so fortunate."

Silence.

The dragon lunges out of his bed, before Genji can reach him, and flings itself at the cart. Before Genji can stop him, the zipper flies open, revealing sun-kissed skin losing its tan, whiskey brown eyes losing their shine.

Silence.

Genji is by his side in a moment, throwing his arms around his brother, pulling him back. The silence is shattered, first by the wail of grief, and then by an apology, repeated over and over again.

"I am sorry, brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are welcome.
> 
> \--Edym


	8. At The End of the Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get it done, I tell myself. And get it done, I will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly only have half an idea what to do for this chapter so good luck y'all!
> 
> Decided to go for New Years Eve since I'm pretty sure everyone else wrote about Christmas.

It was twenty minutes to midnight by the time they made it to the highest point in the valley. Right on target, the cowboy said. Running late, the archer claimed. Neither of them seemed to mind which one was which.

A sorrel paint darts off, nipping at the heels of a tall Tennessee Walker as they trot around the hill, grazing aimlessly at the brown grass as if it would suddenly bloom again. Meanwhile, their riders set the tack down, unfolding the checkered blanket they had and popping the cork out of a bottle of champagne.

"Almost the New Year, Han," Jesse murmured, pouring the bubbling liquid out until both glasses frothed with mirth.

"So it would seem," Hanzo replied, taking one glass and clinking it before downing the whole glass in one long sip. The golden band on his ring finger flashes in the dim light of the full moon up above.

"Got any resolutions, darlin'?" the cowboy asks, pouring them both another glass. The archer considers this, letting the bubbles of the champagne tickle his upper lip as he thinks.

"I have not considered making resolutions in some time," he admits. "It seemed foolish of me to base my goals around a single time of the year."

"Well, there ya' have it. Yer resolution is t'be makin' resolutions," Jesse chides, earning himself an elbow in the shoulder.

"Ridiculous."

"Mhmmm."

The two lapse into silence, watching the mares below kick at each other and buck, baring teeth playfully, letting out whinnies that echo on the light breeze.

"What about you, Jesse?"

"Mmmm, probably same as usual. Gonna resolve to cut back on the smokes, gonna fail in the first year. Aim t'work out and then lie like a sack of potatoes for the whole year."

Hanzo chuckles, leaning back and resting himself comfortably on the broad chest behind him. "How could I have expected anything less?"

A strong, hairy arm wraps around him, pulling him close as the cowboy gazes up at the stars. "Well, t'be honest, I was gonna resolve t'make y'mine. But we already got a date for that."

Briefly, Hanzo abandons sipping his champagne to lean up and press a kiss to his lover's lips, warmth swelling in his chest. "You could resolve to keep that date."

"Honey, c'mon. I trust ya ain't goin' nowhere."

"You sound so confident."

"Well, with the way you're talkin' to me now, I suddenly ain't so."

With a laugh, Hanzo curls up closer into his chest. "I jest."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

With a snort, Hanzo glances down at his watch. "A minute to midnight."

"Already? Phew. Time flies."

Hanzo nods. He thinks a few moments longer.

"Jesse?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I've considered some resolutions."

The arm reaches up to toy with the black strands of hair, freed from their usual bond. "Care t'share?"

"I resolve to recover the bond I had with my brother, until he proves to become insufferable again."

The hand clamps on his shoulder as Jesse barks with laughter. "Well, cross that one right off then."

Hanzo snorts, but continues, looking up and locking eyes with the cowboy. "I resolve to keep you exercising until you fail to show up for training for the third time in a row."

"Sounds like a solid plan--ten seconds, darlin'."

Hanzo nods, and leans close, burying his face in his lover's shoulder.

"And finally," he continues, "I resolve...that I will keep you."

The final seconds of the old year roll over into the new year in silence. The only sound is the pounding of an old hound's heart and a gentle kiss.

"Happy New Year, darlin'. I'll hold ya to that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU IF YOU READ ONE CHAPTER IN THIS, IF YOU READ TWO, IF YOU READ IT ALL, I LOVE YOU.
> 
> I'm gonna go take a nap or something now.
> 
> \--Edym

**Author's Note:**

> Well! Thanks for reading! Glad I was able to get back on track for this! Hope you found at least one chapter to enjoy.
> 
> \--Edym


End file.
